No Way of Knowing
by Nerds United
Summary: I had no way of knowing. No way of knowing that a girl's life would change forever, no way of knowing that he'd be back. I had no way of knowing. I'm just the keeper of a brothel, trying to find my way, just like everybody else.


**A/N: i'm starting a new story. fear me. the pov is that of the keeper of a brothel. i think she's kinda cool, even if she does run a whorehouse... whatever. she's one OC, as of yet unnamed, another is Lily, but she's not all that interesting, another is her brother Andrew. he's not gonna be around much. im thinking of having various pov's for each chappie, but it really all depends on reviewers, so please, review!**

I had no way of knowing that _he'd _want Lily on her first time. I had no way of knowing that her heart would break by morning when I pushed her into the common room. I mean it is a brothel, for goodness sake, but I do try to keep my girls from harm. I had no way of knowing that _Jack_ _Sparrow_ would want her, and though I knew what a scoundrel he was, I couldn't refuse the money—after all, it's her job now.

So what was I to do when he swaggered over to the bar with a frightened Lily on his arm, and the beautifully metallic clink of money in his hand? His smile held its usual golden glint, and was as charming and wicked as always.

"We'll be needin' a room," he informed me, tossing the money up in the air and catching it, making it positively sparkle in the flickering light. He looked as handsome as he did when I'd first met him, his dashing hat tipped rakishly on his head, his devilish grin bright, almost knowing, and his eyes sensually dark, making them seductive. And did I mention his lips? They were positively supple looking, just full enough, and _wonderfully_ shaped. I had often wondered if he would make a pretty girl. There was something very masculine about him, but the fact that he wore eyeliner detracted from it just a tiny bit, not to mention his perfect lips. It was certainly something to ponder on a rainy day. Despite his perfect lips, I wasn't interested in him anymore, but even I have to admit that he always was quite the looker, and had a sense of charisma that was irresistible to many of my younger girls.

"But Jack," I tried futilely, hoping that he would catch the hint that Lily was not ready for his manipulative, conniving ways. "Wouldn't you like to sleep with me?" It was a long shot—we hadn't slept together for several years, and my age was probably beginning to show. I smiled a little halfheartedly, pouting out my lips a little for affect and hoping for the best.

He must've thought that was the richest thing ever, because he laughed for a solid ten minutes while I turned bright red. I put myself on the spot for my girls; I really do. "No thank you," he replied, sounding cool and suave. I grimaced inwardly, and then made pleading eyes at him, trying my best 'lost-little-puppy-dog' look.

He did not respond favorably to the look, slinging a warning glance back at me that spoke of minor violence, saying pretty clearly, 'don't-ruin-my-fun-or-else.' I shot back my own warning look to counter his, that said in response, 'if-you-hurt-her-I'll-skin-you-alive-and-I-won't-have-any-qualms-about-doing-it-either.' It may seem oddly specific, but people usually tend to get the general idea. I get violent when it comes to my girls, and Lily had taken a bit of a shine to me, so I was all the more protective of her.

Lily was one of those meek, submissive types; the kind of girl who would be standing behind you for fifteen solid minutes, and you wouldn't notice she was there until you fully turned around. Don't get me wrong—she was very pretty, with creamy white skin, perfect lips, darling little ears, lots of blonde hair and intensely gray eyes—but the way she held herself was so mouse-like that people often didn't realize she was in the room until she had come up to them and said hello. Even then, she didn't like to talk to anyone unless she absolutely had to, so sometimes people wouldn't notice her in the room at all, and they'd leave without even acknowledging her presence. Sort of made me wonder how Jack had noticed her at all in the first place.

I got the sense that there were times when Lily would be thinking extremely violent thoughts, but there was not a violent _action_ to her name. This was one of those times, and she sent a look past me that spoke of such intense exasperation that I cringed, turning around to see what the look was directed at. A man of considerable height stood there, a troubled look gracing his fine, chiseled features. Blonde hair crowned his head, and his eyes were a very faint blue-gray.

"May I help you?" I asked, plastering an energetic smile on my face.

He bristled at the simple remark. "No."

I sighed. It was times like these that made me think of retirement. He strode forward, paying me no heed and going straight to Lily, easily wrenching her from Jack's grasp. He took her aside, dragging her by her creamy, white upper arm. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked her, sounding fairly steamed.

"Making money," she answered simply, but the look she gave him would have split numerous large logs. "I can't say that I see you doing much better, brother." The last she said quietly, soft and heartrending.

His eyes narrowed and he frowned. "My line might not make much money, but at least it's respectable." Jack raised his eyebrows in the background, which made me roll my eyes at him. He grinned cheekily back at me, and then turned back to the drama unfolding before us.

"A printing press in the middle of the bloody poor district makes _no_ money!" she said scornfully, still rather quiet. "Oh, no worries, it's respectable!" she sang out, imitating him and then rolling her eyes a tiny bit. This was the most emotional as I had ever seen her. "What are you even doing in the Caribbean?"

He looked embarrassed. "I came here to get you. Won't you come back with me to London? Be a good girl, now. That's what Da would've wanted."

"Da's gone now. So it doesn't really matter. Does it?" Lily said, again gentle, but now slightly bitter, and the last was more of a statement than a question.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I can't make you come home, but I do wish you would." He frowned. "You never seemed to mind London, Lily."

"I put up with it because I had to," she replied softly. "Now I don't have to put up with it anymore. I'm not going to."

He drooped, but looked mildly irritated at the same time. "Well isn't that just fine! What am I supposed to tell mother?"

"Tell her to come here and live with me. You come too. There are jobs here, you'll see," Lily replied earnestly, bobbing her head a little.

"Hmm…" he said, shaking his head. "You didn't use to be so troublesome." He looked down at her with undisguised brotherly love. "I can't make you do anything. You're an adult now." He sighed. "Do try to make the right choices," he pleaded. He kissed her forehead, hugged her tenderly, and then left.

I raised one eyebrow. "That was odd," I commented.

"Yes it was," Jack agreed offhandedly, turning to Lily. "Your brother won't come after me seeking my blood, right?"

"No. Andrew is a sweetheart. He's a little protective, but he loves me too much to go against my wishes," she replied, smiling a tiny bit.

"Good. As I said, we need a room," he said, turning back to me, eyebrows raised expectantly.

I tossed him a key without thinking and cursed my habitual nature. "Room 201," I informed him reluctantly, giving him one last pleading glance to treat her well. He consented slightly with his eyes, giving a barely detectable nod. Relief flooded me. For reasons unknown to the rational mind, I trusted the pirate.

I wearily made my way to the special bottle of whiskey that I kept for myself, drooping with the weight of the day. God, I needed a drink. I poured myself a small glass of the whiskey and sipped at it until the cup was empty, mulling over recent happenings. Hopefully this Andrew fellow wouldn't be too much trouble—I couldn't have him coming in and scaring off customers. Soon the whiskey was back in its place—behind the counter and out of the view of the regulars. I sighed, wiping down the counter with a dirty rag. Retirement sounded nice. But I couldn't desert my girls. They were the ones that kept me going. I needed to be there to protect them, so I pushed all thought of retirement away. My girls needed me. And I needed them.

**A/N: so, what do you think? same pov, different, continue, not continue? or you could just drop a review saying, 'hi.' that's fine too. until later,**

**-music nerd (aka everyone's favorite thesaurus, aka Nerd's United, aka grammar fairy)**


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